


A Failed Experiment

by CatKing_Catkin



Series: Cheer Up The Skeleton Week [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Babybones (Undertale), Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Canonical Child Abuse, Caretaking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Fluff and Angst, Gaster makes good choices, Gen, Good W. D. Gaster, Handplates, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Accident W. D. Gaster, Pre-Undertale, Redemption, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Unethical Experimentation, Young Papyrus, Young Sans, implied horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatKing_Catkin/pseuds/CatKing_Catkin
Summary: Written for the "Cheer Up The Skeleton" week on tumblr, Day 7 - prompt "winding down". Takes place in the "Handplates" AU created by zarla, between "A Brief and Mostly Unpleasant Childhood" and concurrently with/instead of "Bad Choices".Doctor W. D. Gaster has a choice to make. He's waited too long to make it - his work is in danger, his plans are in danger, and his objectivity has undeniably been compromised. He sees two ways forward - drag himself back on track, or give the whole experiment up as a failure. The number of timelines in existence approaches infinity. In this one, he chooses Mercy.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Handplates](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/248587) by zarla. 



“WHY DON’T MY HANDS LOOK LIKE YOURS’?”

Questions. Always questions. And _this_ question in particular. Subject Two had a talent for finding the most _inconvenient_ ones to ask. Gaster supposed it made sense – he had a talent for very little else, after all. But he also had a voice that demanded attention, and so perhaps it was to be expected that he had learned to make use of it. Subject One, meanwhile, had a voice that could go easily ignored. Hence, a predilection for watching and listening instead.

It really was remarka – it really was _fascinating_ , how two such different creatures had developed from a single monster. 

But that wasn’t important, not today. 

_“You and Subject One don’t look alike, do you?”_ he replied, following that thought and not lifting his gaze from the tape measure. Not letting himself focus on the holes. 

“I GUESS SO…” He could tell that Two was not convinced. Gaster didn’t bother to waste time trying to convince him. He took a few more measurements, jotted them down in his notebook, and returned both tape measure and notebook to his pocket.

He stood up, and Subject Two hastened to stand as well. _“Follow me,”_ he commanded, turning away and heading for the door. They were in his office. Not that it particularly mattered which room this particular test was conducted in. All that mattered was that it was away from Subject One. The two of them still carried on when separated from one another for even the most minor tests, but had at least grown and developed enough to understand that “out of sight” did not necessarily mean “out of existence”. 

“OKAY.” Obedient and eager-to-please as ever, Two hastened to follow him. He could still only manage to stay within a pace or two of Gaster, due to his shorter legs. Gaster was fine with that. He didn’t have to look back to be sure the smaller skeleton was following. 

It was not a long walk to the operating room. It felt like an eternity, like the long breath he’d taken before turning on the laser. At least he could take a route there that wouldn’t require passing by the cell. 

Subject Two’s footsteps sounded very loud, loud as hammer blows, loud as a drill…

_“Quiet!”_ Gaster snapped without thinking about it.

Subject Two’s footsteps stopped. “UM…”

Then Gaster _did_ think about how he was behaving. And he _sighed_ in irritation – at himself, which was not an unfamiliar feeling to say the least. _“Not you.”_

“THERE’S NO ONE ELSE HERE. UM…IS THERE?”

That question, he didn’t bother answering. He just gave Two’s soul a firm tug forward. The other skeleton gasped, stumbled, but took the hint.

They had been in the operating room before, for simple tests that required only simple tools. Examinations, mostly, observations to chart their growth and development – reflexes, vision, bone density, marrow health, and similar. The room had an operating table big enough for a skeleton as tall as Two to lay down on. But normally, sitting was sufficient. 

The room had a desk for Gaster to leave his notes on. It had a small stand where he could keep his tools. Most of that small stand was currently occupied by the power drill, placed on top of a small metal plate and four long screws. 

Subject Two noticed none of this, of course. All Two noticed was that his usual seat in the room had been taken up by bundles of cloth. He moved forward to examine them without being prompted. “WHAT’S THIS?” he asked, holding up a red sweater upside-down.

_“Clothes,”_ Gaster answered, leaning against the door.

Two looked from his medical gown to Gaster – specifically, to the turtleneck Gaster wore under his labcoat – and back again. He could _see_ the metaphorical gears turning into the experiment’s head, and braced himself for the difficulty to follow.

Sure enough: “YOU MEAN LIKE _YOURS’?_ ” Two cried, looking so damnably delighted, his eyesockets practically glowing. Already assuming that they were for him.

They were, of course. But they didn’t _have_ to be. Gaster was aware that he was teetering on the edge, that here was the last moment where he could turn back. He could still take the clothes away, tell Subject Two to ignore them. He could still make the smaller skeleton lay down on the table to be strapped in place.

He could still pick up the drill.

Gaster looked down at Subject Two and tried to make himself imagine changing his mind. He made himself imagine the creak of the leather straps, the whine of the drill. He wondered just how long it would take, before that broad and happy smile was replaced by an expression of pain and terror. He wondered if Two would learn how to hate him, or if Two would simply cry. He imagined the feeling of screws being driven down into bone by his hand.

It was all very, very easy to imagine. Even though he’d never _really_ hurt them before.

As though that was any kind of excuse.

And the fact that it was all so easy to imagine didn’t make the _sick_ feeling that took hold of his soul in that moment any less cloying or overwhelming. Gaster went fumbling in his pocket for a cigarette, instead. He knew, in that moment, that he was lost. That the experiment was lost. 

_“Yes,”_ he said, before putting the cigarette between his teeth and clicking on the lighter. He tried very hard not to look at his hands as he did so. But that meant he had to look at Two instead. _“Like mine. Put them on.”_

Better to fail wholeheartedly. Better not to waste his time and all of monsterkind’s pursuing an experiment he’d lost the stomach for. He was weak after all. All of this proved that. But at least he could avoid being weak _and_ inefficient. Perhaps the new Royal Scientist could pick up where he had left off. Gaster had at least laid a groundwork, a foundation for work to follow.

Failures at least had no expectations.

The taste of smoke was bitter and thick in his skull, grounding him back in the moment. Just in time to see Subject Two try to slip his arms through the legs of a pair of pants. 

_“No, not like…”_ Gaster sighed, long and tired. _“Those are for your_ legs _. Not like…put your foot down and turn them…oh,_ hell _with it_. _Stop that, you’ll tear them_.”

He strode forward to help Subject Two get dressed. If it required some manual manipulation, it at least didn’t require him to hold the other skeleton in place by his soul. And it meant he was right there to undo the ties on the medical gown when it came time for Two to pull on the red sweater.

One knot at the back of the neck, one at the base of the spine. Gaster undid them both, and felt something that had previously been knotted tight in his soul loosen a little in turn. Subject Two obediently, even eagerly, pulled his arms free and let the gown fall to the floor.

Then he picked it up, folded it carefully, and set it neatly on the operating table.

Of course he did.

At least he figured out the top a little more quickly than the pants, albeit still with Gaster’s help. At least his imprecise guess at their size earlier hadn’t been too far off – he would save the exact measurements he had taken earlier for later. For now, the outside world would deem the two of them presentable. 

Two then turned to examining the smaller blue sweater that had been set on the table alongside his new clothes. _“Put it down,”_ Gaster said sternly. _“That’s not for you.”_

Two immediately put the blue cloth back down, before staring curiously up at Gaster. “WHO IS IT FOR?” Yet again proving unfortunately quick on the uptake in all the wrong circumstances, he gasped aloud a second later. “IS IT FOR MY BROTHER?”

It must have seemed such an easy assumption to make. The two of them had never had anything that was solely for one or the other. Even when Gaster had deliberately given them less to see who would take more, they had found and maintained an equality as though it were the most natural choice in the world.

He still didn’t understand how that had ever come to be.

It certainly wasn’t a trait they’d ever inherited from him.

Gaster turned away, back towards the door. “ _Wait here_ ,” he ordered, deliberately not looking back. “ _I will bring Subject One_.” But he needed a moment alone, first. Standing there, caught in the light of what was undeniably _affection_ from Subject Two’s eyes and soul, was like being caught under a heat lamp and a microscope at the same time. It felt like being… _filled up_ , like something hot and gold was oozing out from his soul and into his ribcage.

More terrifying still, it didn’t feel _bad_. It went against all logic and reason, and _it still didn’t feel bad_. 

How did One ever bear this kind of attention without spontaneously combusting? Or, perhaps more importantly, how did he bear it without _abusing_ it?

How had a creature like this come from someone like _him_?

“OKAY!” Two agreed eagerly, and Gaster was relieved to have the chance to leave him there and put a closed door between them.

This last test for himself had succeeded. Or maybe it had failed. Either way, there was no turning back. 

Skeletons didn’t need to breathe, but it could be a soothing habit. Gaster drew in several deep, smoke-filled breaths as he strode back down the hallway towards the cell. He could taste nicotine and tar on his teeth – basic, bracing, and _chemical_ tastes that he’d always found soothing. The cigarette was already down almost to the stub by the time he stopped in front of the cell. But Gaster, at least, felt calmer.

One was, predictably, awake. He was laying on their shared cot and staring fixedly through the laser barrier and into the hallway. Waiting for his brother. He smiled hopefully at the sight of Gaster…before frowning worriedly at the realization that Gaster was alone.

“where’s my brother?”

Gaster deliberately avoided meeting the smaller skeleton’s gaze, turning his attention instead to the handprint scanner. _“I will take you to him. Follow me.”_

He deactivated the barrier, not entirely able to keep from dwelling on the fact that he was doing so for the last time. One got up from the cot and crept cautiously into the hallway to stand beside Gaster. He stared intently up at his creator, and for a wild moment, Gaster thought that One saw right through him, that his other creation saw what he had been planning and what he even now was doubting…

“what’s that?”

Then One pointed at…his mouth? Gaster placed a hand over his mouth, puzzled, until he felt the cigarette butt still clenched tightly between his teeth.

_“Don’t worry about it,”_ he said, feeling a rush of relief take hold of his soul. He simply removed the dogend, dropped it to the floor, and ground it out with the toe of his shoe. He didn’t doubt that he’d be lighting plenty more, before the day was out. And he wouldn’t be back to worry about cleaning this one up. _“Follow me.”_

“’kay.”

Subject One followed, though he kept pace even more poorly than Subject Two did. But Gaster didn’t doubt that he would follow, in the hopes of being brought back to his fellow creation’s side. It gave him a chance to not be looked at for a few minutes more, and that was just as well.

Had he really never smoked in front of the two of them before? Gaster cast his memory back, and was eventually forced to conclude that he hadn’t. No matter how stressed or anxious he’d gotten, he’d always managed to tamp those feelings down until he was alone and there was no one to see the signs of them. Cigarettes had always been a sign that he was _alone,_ that he was _safe_ – even if only from other people judging him for what was _not_ that bad of a habit.

But now that was over with, apparently. _I’m terrified_ , he realized, with that dull sort of surprise that he knew to recognize as a sign of shock. Sure enough, he looked down at his hands and realized they were shaking. He was terrified enough to lose control of himself in this one small but familiar way. Perhaps that should have been obvious from the start, but there were so many emotions crowding into his skull and soul that he didn’t know where to start.

Especially when what he was terrified of were two skeletal children. _His_ two children.

He wanted to laugh with the absurdity of it, but knew that if he started, it might just lead to him remembering how to sob. 

His soul stuttered with dread when he opened the door to the examination room to see Subject Two sitting on the table. But then he took in other details, such as the fact that Two was smiling, and…hugging himself? Yes, hugging himself, and then running his hands over his arms where they were covered by the sleeves. Obviously just enjoying the feeling of the fabric on his bones. 

“brother…?” asked One, slipping around Gaster to approach Two.

Two looked up, beaming broadly, and immediately scrambled off the table to meet One. “BROTHER! LOOK!” He snatched up the blue sweater and held it out to One. “LOOK WHAT THE DOCTOR BROUGHT US! CLOTHES! NEW CLOTHES! LIKE HIS!”

The clothes were the furthest possible thing from “new”. He’d traded for them in Gerson’s shop simply because he knew that Gerson preferred digging up that sort of thing to the DVDs Alphys hunted for and the tools Gaster scavenged. It had saved him a trip to the dump, and Gerson hadn’t asked what Gaster might need two sets of children’s clothes for. 

But to Subject Two, they might as well have been the king’s own royal cloak. And even Subject One looked a little awed and taken aback, as he reached up to run his hands over the material.

“BUT THEY ARE A LITTLE HARD TO PUT ON! SO I WILL HELP YOU!” Two carried on, looking evidently pleased with himself at the chance to be an authority figure on anything, even clothes. One was happy to be helped. Gaster yet again leaned against the door and watched as Two undid the knots on the back of One’s medical gown. One slipped free of it and let it fall to the floor. Predictably, he let it stay there. Then he held up his arms so that Two could work the top over his head. The taller experiment moved with much more certainty than he had before, already having committed the necessary steps to memory and practicing them now.  

And then when that was done, One did something else surprising. Both the sweaters came with buttons – just three buttons that could be undone to loosen the collar a bit. Useless beyond that. Gaster hadn’t thought anything about them. He certainly hadn’t bothered to button them up before he’d set them aside for them. One and Two, meanwhile, would never really have had cause to learn how to _work_ the buttons on clothes in their lives. 

Nevertheless, when they both stood there dressed, One reached out to Two’s collar and rather fussily buttoned it back up. 

_As one learns something new, so the other builds off of what they’ve learned to new heights. A mutual scaffolding._

Two did the same for One. And then they both stood there, running their hands over one another’s clothes, experimenting with the new feeling of the fabric, assessing how this newness fit into their understanding of the world.

As he watched them, Gaster caught himself wondering just what about the clothes had led them to believe that they were important, or a gift. They had never before placed much value on clothes before. They hadn’t even known to wear them until he’d tied the gowns on them one day and adamantly retied them whenever either one took them off. Yet they clearly understood that  _these_  clothes were different – “special”, as it were. Perhaps the brighter colors triggered some base, instinctive, but pleasant associations in their minds. Perhaps they recognized the softer quality of the fabric as an unnecessary but welcome indulgence. Perhaps it was simply the fact that they realized they were wearing clothes similar to his own now, and recognized that this helped secure their place as a comparative equal to him.

It was an interesting idea to entertain, and might bear further experimentation later. 

Predictably, this tactile exploration culminated in a hug between the two. The sight of their souls glowing in unison made Gaster feel as though he’d just been cut with a scalpel. 

_They are indeed little skeletons_. 

And they were still smiling when they pulled apart, they were still smiling when they looked up at _him_. “THANK YOU!” Two said again.

One nodded in open agreement. “but why’d you get us clothes?”

They hadn’t even noticed the plates.

They hadn’t even asked about the drill.

They clearly had no knowledge of how close they’d come to enduring a horrendous agony, to being kept down here for however long their lives would ultimately be.

And they never would. 

_“Where we are going is more dangerous than this lab. More protection will be required.”_ He allowed himself a sigh, and added: _“It will also be much easier to get filthy. And bathing the two of you is already enough of a trial.”_

“’where we are going’…” One repeated, frowning thoughtfully.

“WE’RE GOING SOMEWHERE ELSE?” Two asked. Then he brightened all over again. “OUTSIDE? ARE WE GOING OUTSIDE?”

“what? no,” One answered, shaking his head at the very idea. Then he took another look at Gaster’s face, and looked much less certain. “…are we?”

He didn’t say “yes”. He _couldn’t_ say “no”. Gaster just turned away, opened the door, and beckoned for them to follow. He heard them giggling to one another before they hastened to catch up.

For just an instant, he found himself fighting the urge to smile at the sound.


End file.
